The Washington critic., 1887-03-15

hurriedly to his companions
Bring her down to my carrlage-it
is waiting. My sister will do what we
cannot" Then, once outside. he called
to The coachman-"To the Hotel Dieu;
and drive quickly w
The impatient horses, which had
been chatting restlcssly for more than
an hour, dashed forward, and In few
moments the carriage was lost sight of
In the deepening gloom.
Again girl was leaning from nm
open easement. She wore u gown of
soft, gray material that fell In cling.
ing folds around her slight form, and
her hair, cut quite short, covered her
small head in silken curls. The scene
upon which she was gazing was peace.
ful enough. 1t was the rose garden of
an old English manor house, and a
child was playing among the ilowers.
llither, more than two years before,
Margaret Vaughan had been brought
after her lingering recovery from the
terrible attack of brain fever following
her first and last visit to the gaming
saloon at Foudriere, and here she had
remained ever since as the friend and
companion of the widowed sister TO
whom Captain Mostyn had contided
her. A deep and strong attachment
had sprung up between Lady Chet.
wynd and herself, and at last Margaret
had found peace after the storm, and
rest after the struggles of the past.
AT first Captain Mostyn had been
frequently at the manor house, but
then, quite suddenly and without as.
signing any reason for his decision. he
exchanged into regiment ordered on
active service, and had continued with
IL during the whole campaign.
On this day he was returning to his
sisters house covered with glory.
And the child played on, and the
girl still leaned from the easement,
waiting. Little did she guess that the
soldier who was returning home had
left that home because he had learned
to love her too well; but in those
months of danger and separation she
felt dimly, and with pang of self.
reproach and shame, that feeling had
crept into her own heart which made
her shrink and trcmblc at the coming
meciing--a feeling she dared not at
tempt TO analyze.
ANo" hNl hNhtN was bAdllbb NiANIlN ~
she tried vainly TO assume calmness
she could not feel, soft rose tint
dcepened on her cheeks, and the love.
light stole into her tender eyes.
Just then some one entered the rose
garden, and the child, his little hands
iull of flowers, looked round wonder
ingly, and then ran boldly up to the
intruder.
"Are you my own papa come back
from over the sea-" he asked, and the
words reached Margaret, but she could
not see to whom they were addressed.
The answer, however, filled her soul
with dismay, for the intruder, catching
the child in his arms, was evidently
approaching, and mans voice said
mendaciously
Eyes my darling, l am your own
papa come back from over the sea ~
and with few whispered words they
| passed along the lawn, close to the
| window where Magaret was.
She dropped upon her knees, with
her face hidden In her hands, and they
could see nothing but the wide.open
easement, with the leafy screen of ivy
and clematis. She knew they were
coming in, and yet she had hardly the
power to move. She could not stand,
| when she had risen from her knees,
trembling In every limb.
The childs footsteps halted mo.
ment by the door, and then passed
away quickly, but strong hand
grasped the handle, and she heard as in
dream frank, imperious voice utter
ing her name.
Margaret, l have pledged myself in
the rose garden TO something perilously
sweet; could not help 1.-THE tempta.
| tion was too great. am an impostor
and rogue. win you shelter and
save me?"
"IIow can save your" faltercd Mar.
garet, pale and trembling.
by helping me to redeem the
pledge, my darling" replied the auda.
cious intruder, for l cannot face
Harry without my WIFE"
Your wife, Margaret echoed,
stung into indignant protest, How
long have you found that you needed
one. Colonel MostynI"
"Since the day carried You out of
the saloon at Foudricre," answered
the unabashed speaker. My dar.
ling" he added, tenderly, don't you
know that / have loved you ever since
/ held you in my arms that day"
| Little Harry's question was not q
groundless one, after all; father, ten
der and faithful, did come over the sea
for lin on that memorable evening
when he played in the rose garden al
Chetwynd Royal.
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